


Soldier in the Snow

by StarBlazer124



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: M/M, Seasons of Anime Exchange 2020, future/timeskip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:47:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25682263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarBlazer124/pseuds/StarBlazer124
Summary: Yuri had always considered himself a loner, marching on without the need of anyone else. Now, as Yakov retires, he begins to realize that he's relied on others his whole life. When Otabek arrives, ready to spend a couple weeks at Yuri's house relaxing, things go from fun to confusing in a single night.
Relationships: Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky
Comments: 3
Kudos: 42
Collections: Seasons of Anime Exchange 2020





	Soldier in the Snow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [stardust_writer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardust_writer/gifts).



“For the last time, Vitya, I don’t want to hear another song! I’m old, not deaf!” Yakov buried his head in his hands as Victor started his fifth off-key rendition of ‘He’s a Jolly Good Fellow’. 

Despite the terrible performance, the atmosphere in the room was bright and happy. Decorations sparkled in every corner of Lilia’s dining hall and booze was passed around, fueling the former skater’s ridiculous behavior. Yuri didn’t know what he’d expected. Only Victor could get sloshed at a retirement party. 

“Hey Nikiforov, control your husband! He’s making my ears bleed!” He shot a half-hearted glare Yuuri Nikiforov’s direction. 

Yuuri set his glass of water down and smiled. “Victor, come here.” Victor bounded over like a puppy, cooing when Yuuri brought his head against his chest. “Let’s settle down a bit, okay? It’s still early.”

“But Yuuri~!” Victor pouted. “It’s a big day! How often do you get to see a man as stubborn and grumpy as Yakov retire? I thought he’d work until he was on his deathbed!”

“Vitya! Watch your mouth! I may not be your coach anymore, but I’m still your elder. Show some respect!”

“Oh, I’m just teasing, Yakov! Come on, let’s celebrate!”

“Get off me!”

Yuri leaned back against the wall and stared into his vodka. For all his joking, Victor had a point. Despite being in his late 70s, it felt strange to picture Yakov retiring. It felt...wrong. He’d trained Yuri for nearly twenty years and now that was all changing.

As if on cue, Mila threw an arm around his shoulders. “So, with Yakov hanging up his coaching cap, what are you going to do, Yuri? You’ve still got a few years left on the ice. Or are six Gran Prix golds enough to satisfy you?”

Across the table from Lilia, Georgi rolled his eyes. “He’s nothing like you, Mila. He won’t retire until he absolutely has to.”

“A girl has to focus to make it through law school. So sue me.” She turned her sights back to Yuri, a conspiratorial gleam in her grin. “So? Who will coach the great tiger, Yuri Plisetsky?”

“Actually...”

Mila and Georgi looked to Yuuri. Victor had returned to his lap, content to have his hair played with. “Victor and I will be coaching Yuri.”

“What about your work in Hasetsu?” Georgi asked.

Victor peeked between Yuuri’s arms. “We’ll be at the Ice Castle during the off-season. Otherwise we’ll be here until Yuri decides he doesn’t need us.”

“It won’t be too different from when we all worked together on our short programs,” Yuuri added.

“It’s going to be so much fun! Yuri, you better not lose while I’m training you. That’d look bad for both of us, wouldn’t it?” 

“Shut up, you idiot! Of course I’ll win!” Yuri stormed across the room, grabbing his jacket before coming to Lilia’s side. “I have to go. Thanks for the party.”

She patted his cheek. “Fix your hair before you go. You look like a mess. And come visit us. I don’t want to hear any excuses about you being ‘too busy’.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He clapped Yakov on the back. “Try not to let her whip you too hard, you old geezer.” He paused. “I’ll call you later.”

Without looking up, Yakov nodded. “Drive safe.”

“Oh?” Mila raised a brow. “And where are you going in such a rush?”

“It’s almost 8 o’clock,” Yuri said, “I promised Otabek I’d pick him up from the airport.”

“That’s right! I thought I heard something about him visiting. Is he staying with you? Sounds serious.” She winked.

“Ah, young love.” Georgi sighed with a smirk.

Yuri growled. “It’s none of your damn business!”

He slammed the door on his way out. His face heated up as he climbed into his snow covered car. Embarrassment, he told himself. His stupid friends had made a big deal out of nothing and he was getting mad over their teasing. Nothing more.

~...~

“You’ve got a nice place.” Grabbing his suitcase out of the trunk, Otabek looked up at the house. It was a small two-story, on the outskirts of St. Petersburg. With the pale blue paint of the siding chipped in a few spots, it suited Yuri well. As his friend opened the front door and led them both in, the inside exuded the same calculated roughness as Yuri did on the ice. 

“Nothing fancy. It gets me away from the hag’s preening though, so it’s worth the crappy bills.” Yuri whistled. “Potya! We’ve got company. Come say hello, you lazy bastard!”

From up the steps, a disgruntled groan was followed by the tapping of claws and the jingling of tags. Yuri’s cat stopped on the landing to stare at Otabek. It glanced around the room until it spotted its owner. The sighs turned to purrs as it strolled over and pressed its forehead to Yuri’s leg. Yuri reached down to scratch Potya’s chin. 

“I’m glad to see you too. Now stop being rude and go see Ota,” he grumbled.

That made Otabek smile. “Never thought I’d see the day when you chastise someone about their manners. Maybe Yakov and Lilia have had more of an effect on you than I thought.”

Yuri’s head whipped around. His ears were a bit red, something that intrigued Otabek. The glare sent his way was as icy as the wind though. 

“On second thought, Potya, never mind. Ota doesn’t deserve kitty rubs.” The way he puffed out his cheeks when he huffed seemed to rewind the clock, bringing the hard lines of his face back to the teenage roundness they were when they first competed in Barcelona.

Otabek recognized the pang of nostalgia...and something else he didn’t feel the need to name. He shook his head to clear some of his thoughts. “Maybe I’ll earn them later,” he said, “In the meantime, would you be interested in taking a walk?”

“A walk? Right now?”

“I know we just got here, but I’ve always thought the winter nights in Russia were peaceful. I thought a walk through the snow might be relaxing.” 

“Yeah...that does sound nice.” Yuri grabbed his keys again off the table by the door. “Leave your stuff there. I’ll bring it to the guest room later.”

~...~

While the walk hadn’t been in Yuri’s plans for the evening, he had to admit it was a good idea. He had led Otabek to a local park, which felt completely abandoned this late. There were no kids screaming, no fans hounding them for autographs or selfies. It was just him and Otabek in their own quiet world. 

For most of the way, neither spoke. To Yuri, it didn’t feel like a distracted silence. He knew Otabek was as immersed in the moment as he was. The air was almost electric, drawing them together with a buzzing intensity.

It wasn’t until their third lap around the park that Otabek spoke up.

“So Yakov really retired, huh?”

Yuri pulled his arms a little closer to his chest. “Yeah.”

“Doesn’t seem possible.” He turned to Yuri. “I’m surprised you agreed to have Victor and his husband coach you. You don’t usually see eye-to-eye with them.” 

“They’re annoying, that’s for sure, especially with their lovey-dovey garbage.” He shrugged. “There’s no ignoring Victor’s past record and the pig even earned a few golds. As much as I complain, they’re the best I could choose right now.”

“How’re you holding up?” 

Yuri didn’t have to look up from his boots to see Otabek was concerned. He debated on denying it when a hand rested on his shoulder. 

“Yakov’s been your coach since you started. I can’t imagine it’s an easy transition.” 

Damn it. He had to use that calming tone of voice. It was the same tone he used when he told Yuri he had the eyes of soldier. It held no pity, just the sense of deep comradery. 

Yuri sighed. “I don’t like it,” he muttered. “First Victor and Yuuri retired, then Georgi, then Mila and now even Yakov’s turning in. Everyone’s leaving. It doesn’t feel the same.”

“There’ll be new competitors. With time, they’ll be challenges too.”

“I know that! This is so stupid! It doesn’t matter who’s on the ice. Skating is skating!” He growled, running a hand though his hair. “I even caught myself missing JJ! How pathetic is that? He was the biggest idiot of them all and I still want to skate against him!” How dare that asshole leave the rink for his kids, Yuri thought bitterly. So what if it was the first decent thing he did? It still was a shitty move!

Otabek paused. “What happened with the others?”

“Phichit’s working on his ice show and Chris is announcing for the competitions. I think I heard Leo’s moving into music production or something.” 

“He is. He sent me some of his music last month.” Otabek took his hand off Yuri, rubbing the back of his neck instead. “Won’t be long until I have to figure out my own plans.”

Yuri froze, spinning on his heel to snarl at Otabek. “Don’t say that! You’ve got a lot of time before you have to retire!”

“I disagree,” Otabek said firmly. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot since the last Gran Prix final. I’m having trouble keeping up with you and the others. I’m thinking after another year or two, I might try doing DJ work full time.” 

“Shut up!” Yuri backed up a step. “Don’t give me that garbage! You and I are skating for years to come! None of this retiring shit!”

“Yuri-“

“I’m going home.” He stormed off, cutting through snow banks without noticing his clothes getting soaked. “If you don’t want to get locked out, then keep up!”

~...~

He knew better than to push. Otabek knew it would take Yuri a while to settle down, to talk seriously. He was stressed, that much was obvious, but Otabek couldn’t help until he found out what exactly was on Yuri’s mind.

He let Yuri steam and stomp all the way back to the house. By the time they had reached the door, Yuri had cooled to a pouting simmer. His expression was dark as he fussed with the living room fireplace.

“Sit your ass down. We can’t afford to get sick.” He disappeared into the kitchen for a few minutes, only to return with two mugs of coffee. “Drink up,” he ordered. 

Otabek made himself comfortable on the couch. “Thanks.” The mug felt nice against his cold skin and when he sipped, he could feel himself unthawing from the inside out. 

Yuri, meanwhile, flopped into an arm chair. Potya immediately took the opportunity to stretch out across his lap, eyes drooping shut. The cat’s weight and happy rumbling eased Yuri’s mood further. He flashed a small smile at his pet before throwing his head back against the cushion.

It felt wrong to disturb them, but Otabek had to make use of the calm. Mirroring Yuri’s posture, he stared into the fire. “You know we have to acknowledge what I said, Yuri.”

“God damn it, Ota.” The bite was gone this time. “I was hoping the heat and the coffee would make you drop it.”

“It’s important to me,” he said. “I enjoy my work as a DJ and if retiring from skating means I can devote more time to that job, then maybe it isn’t such a bad thing.”

“I didn’t mean it like that...” Yuri hesitated, but Otabek gave him time to collect his thoughts. “You’re a great DJ. Anyone who doesn’t think so is a moron. If that’s what you want to do for the long haul, that’s fine with me.”

“But...” Otabek continued. 

“But I’m worried!”

Setting his mug on the side table, Otabek watched Yuri run a hand down his face. His blush was back, spreading from his ears to his cheeks and nose. He always hated admitting weakness and this conversation was an embarrassing blow to his pride. 

“What are you worried about?”

“I’m worried about the ‘what then’. What happens after you retire, or hell, when we both do? Are we going to drift apart like everyone else has started to? I like being around you, Otabek. I don’t want that to stop once we’re done skating.”

Otabek frowned. “Who says that would happen?”

“Why wouldn’t it? We line in two completely different countries! You’ll be busy with work and I’ll be doing...something. It’s not like we’ll see each other at competitions anymore. We’ll have our own lives, with our own schedules. Besides,” he shot Otabek another half-hearted glare, “I know I’m not the friendliest guy in the world. There are loads of people who would be a hell of a lot easier to deal with!”

For the first time, Otabek caught it. Looking deeply at Yuri, the soldier eyes he admired for so long didn’t hold their usual glint of strength. There was fear, a desperation for steady ground to build the future on. He would never voice it - it wasn’t in Yuri’s nature - but he needed reassurance that only Otabek could give.

It only took two strides for Otabek to stand in front of Yuri’s chair. With his taller height and broader form, he dwarfed Yuri as he leaned down, hands on both chair arms. Their faces were close, close enough to feel the breath of the other fan across their skin. For once, Yuri was stunned silent, locked in Otabek’s intense gaze.

“You’re right. Maybe there are people who are easier to handle.” His voice was low and rough, barely louder than a whisper. “But I don’t choose friends based on how ‘easy’ they’d be. We’ve known each other for years, Yuri. I would think you’d know me well enough to know I don’t give up easily.”

“What do you mean?” Yuri asked softly.

Otabek’s grip on the fabric tightened. “You’re too important for me to forget or leave. No matter where we both are or what we’re doing, I plan to stay with you every step of the way. Even after I retire, I’ll still be going to all of your competitions and if you think being in different parts of the world is a problem, then I’ll move to Russia.”

“Wait,” Yuri’s lungs froze for a moment, “you’d do that? For real?”

“If it meant getting to stay with you, yes.” Taking a deep breath, Otabek pressed a fleeting kiss to Yuri’s forehead. “You’re not just my friend, Yuri. I love you.” He intertwined their fingers together. “I love you and, if you want, I’ll stay by your side. Now...and in the future.”

Before he could worry about possible rejection, Yuri grabbed the collar of his shirt, yanking him down for a full-fledged kiss. 

“Dumbass,” Yuri muttered between their lips, “could have told me sooner and spared us the drama.”

Otabek pulled back and smirked. “And you should have realized years ago when I agreed to rip your glove off with my teeth.” Tangling his free hand into Yuri’s hair, he tipped his head back for another taste. 

~...~

Light steaming in through the window pulled Yuri out of his slumber. The room still had a smoky smell to it after the fire had burned out. Another scent registered in his brain though... a faint whiff of cologne. There was also the warmth surrounding him, different from the blanket across his back.

Cracking an eye open, Yuri couldn’t help but sigh, completely content. He was lying on Otabek’s chest, the other man’s arms wrapped snugly against his waist. He could remember cuddling on the couch, listening to Otabek’s soothing voice until he drifted to sleep. 

“Meow.”

Yuri glanced up. Potya’s yellow eyes stared back. The cat was curled around Otabek’s head, its tail draped over his eyes like a fuzzy sleep mask. It mewled again. 

“It’s fine,” Yuri whispered, “I’d say he’s earned it.”


End file.
